Looking for my muse

I try to be a poet without my muse,
a lonely woman in a sea of ​​verses,
my words, in silence, diffuse.

I search among the shadows for my universe,
where the brightness of a lost star,
can inspire my scattered verses.

My pen yearns to be rescued, dear,
by lips that return the melody,
and give life to my saddened soul.

I dream of finding poetry,
in eyes that shine with passion,
and fill my days with joy.

But while that inspiration arrives,
I will cling to ink and paper,
drawing verses without explanation.

My muse hides in some corner,
and I, wandering, will search for her,
until my heart sings in song.

For now, I will continue writing, faithful,
waiting for the encounter that saves me,
and makes my pen fly and grow.

I am the woman who dreams of an enclave,
where the muse finds a home,
and my verses re-emerge with vigor.